


and the walls kept tumbling down

by angstlairde



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE NEW EPISODES, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fix-It, Gen, MAJOR SPOILERS HOLY SHIT, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, SUCH SPOILERS, Spoilers, Team as Family, major feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstlairde/pseuds/angstlairde
Summary: Kanan saw white.It was stark, blinding - the irony didn’t escape him - but it didn’t hurt.Of course, any color besides black would be welcomed with open arms. He hadn’t seen color in so long. He missed Sabine’s bright hair, the green of Hera’s skin, the orange of Ezra’s clothes, the gray of Zeb’s fur.And now, all he saw was white.....Rebels Fix-It, in which Kanan comes back Gandalf style





	and the walls kept tumbling down

**Author's Note:**

> this is only the first chapter. I will add more definitley don't you worry, but i was having kanan and sabine feels so there you have it

_Kanan saw white._

_It was stark, blinding - the irony didn’t escape him - but it didn’t hurt._

_Of course, any color besides black would be welcomed with open arms. He hadn’t seen color in so long. He missed Sabine’s bright hair, the green of Hera’s skin, the orange of Ezra’s clothes, the gray of Zeb’s fur._

_And now, all he saw was white._

 

…

 

The sky was dark and blue and hazy. Kanan’s head hurt. A breeze blew gently, playing with his hair.

Wait.

He should be dead.

Last thing he remembered, he was saving Hera, Ezra, Sabine, and - there was fire, orange, yellow flames licking at his hands like hungry dogs.

Then there was the white.

Then - he was here, in the grass, scratchy-soft, musky, green gray Lothal grass. Kanan pushed himself up onto his knees, his fingers catching in the roots of the grass. Where was he?

He stood, brushed his hands off, and then his pants, and  _looked_.

So many colors, even at night. Off in the distance, there was black smoke and the sky is orange over the refinery. Kanan felt a surge of satisfaction. No more TIE defenders for the Empire. The sky was dark blue and sprinkled with yellow and white stars. The mountains loomed tall and white. 

Hera’s Force-signature was swirling blue and yellow and green, grief and determination and hope mixing together like Sabine’s paint.

Ezra was bright gold, spiraling out, with a dark, despairing center, cold and small.

Zeb was gray and icy blue, angry and shut off and cold.

Sabine was raging reds and orange, and anguished navy blue, heavy and hurt, and deep purple, of felt betrayal and need.

His family.

All this because he died, yet… he didn’t. Kanan looked at his hands.

What the hells?

His hands were covered in burn scars. Well, at least he was no Force ghost, glowing blue and transparent. He had to get back to them before anyone did something reckless, and they could figure this all out.

Kanan started walking, latching onto a thread of blue from Hera, letting it guide him back to her.

She was standing at the edge of their base, eyes shut, hands running over the tops of the grass. Her face was wet. A sharp stab of fierce protectiveness in his gut shocked him. He never wanted this for her. He never wanted any of this for any of them.

Kana stopped a few meters away from her, and gulped.

“ _Hera._ ”

Hera’s eyes shot open, and she stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. Then she laughed once, and buried her face in her hands.

“Now I’m imagining you, great.”

The bitterness in her voice killed him.

“You’re not imagining me, Hera.” He took a step closer. “I’m really here.”

Hera shook her head, and crossed her arms, tilting her head back to stare at the sky.

“How? I saw you die -” she cut herself off with a choked gasp. “ _How?_ ”

“I dunno,” he said, stepping closer again. He spread his hands. “But I’m here.” He closed the distance between them, and stopped. He was at the edge of a precipice and he wanted to fall.

Hera pulled him over the edge, and into her embrace, and he fell, gladly, holding her close.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Hera whispered into his shoulder, and Kanan tightened his hold on her momentarily.

“Me too.”

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, just holding each other, but when he finally pulled back, Kanan felt more alive than he ever had before.

“How are the kids taking it?”

Hera shook her head.

“Bad. Sabine and Zeb left almost as soon as we got back to blow something up. Ezra ran off. Now he supposed to be sleeping, but I know he isn’t. Sabine is painting. I’m not sure what Zeb’s doing.”

Kanan nodded, and rubbed his eyes.

“And you?”

“Kanan…” Hera said, and her eyes welled up with tears. Before he could say anything, though, she tugged him down to her for a hard, desperate kiss. “I saw you die. And now you’re back. I’m - I’m still in shock from everything that happened. I couldn’t possibly sleep.”

 _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you so much, I never meant for this to happen, I’m so, so sorry_  -

“Kanan, love, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He was crying. She wrapped him in a hug, and Kanan held her closely, probably too tightly after what she’d gone through, but he needed to be close.

He pulled back finally, wiping his eyes. He needed to talk to the kids.

“Who took it worse?”

“Sabine, for sure,” Hera said immediately. “Like I said, she wanted to blow something up.”

Kanan nodded, and took a step back.

“I’ll go talk to her.”

 

….

 

Sabine was painting on the side of a mountain with real, wet, gloppy paint, slapping the paint brush onto the rock, and splattering herself and the wall with paint. There was no rhyme or reason to her painting, just angry red and orange and yellow, and this protected blue and green section in the middle, and white border around it, and purple splatters everywhere. She was sniffing. Her hair had grown out since the last time he saw it, and just the tips of her hair was purple now. He wondered what happened last time he saw it.

She must have heard him coming, because she sniffed angrily again, and growled,

“Not now, Ezra!”

Kanan stopped walking.

“I’m not Ezra,” he said gently, and Sabine froze. Her paint brush dropped from her hand, clattering on the ground, smearing yellow paint on her boots.

“You can’t be here,” she said carefully, her voice betraying nothing. “I saw you die.”

Her feelings pull away, but they’re gathering on the horizon, like a tsunami is about to crash over her.

“I  _am here_ , Sabine. I - think I died, but… I’m here. I’m no ghost.”

She still didn’t turn around, pressing a hand against damp paint, and curling that hand into a fist, smearing the red and yellow into orange.

“Do you know what fathers do, Kanan?” she asked, and her feelings are still pulling away. Kanan stayed silent. “Fathers teach you, and have your back, and are always there for you, and sometimes they do things you don’t like, but it’s what you need, and if you fall down, they’re always there to pick you up, and they never,  _never_ leave you when you need them most.”

She flattens her hands against the wall, smushing purple and orange and black together.

“We needed you, Kanan, and you left us. We still need you, I - I need you. I need you.” Her voice broke, and with it Kanan’s resolve and his heart. He stepped closer to her, and slowly, warily laid a hand on her paint-splattered shoulder.

“Sabine -”

The tsunami crashed over her, pulling her under.

She whirled on him, throwing punches which Kanan dodged weakly.

“ _How could you?!”_ she shouted, and Kanan let her. “How could you do that to me, Kanan, I need you! I need you, I -”

The tsunami crashed again, drowning and wrecking havoc.

Her punching stopped, and so did her shouting, and she gave in, sobbing hard, and grabbing his shirt, leaving multicolored hand prints.

Kanan only held her, tucking her close. So often, he forgot that she was only seventeen. She was just a girl, but she acted like she had seen the world and seen the horrors and wouldn’t lie and take it. And she had. But Sabine didn’t deserve that life.

She deserved so much better.

All of them did.

“Hey,” he said, combing his fingers through her hair. “You know what’ll make you feel better?”

Sabine pulled away, wiping her nose.

“What? Killing Pryce?” she asked, cocking her hip to the side. Kanan held up his hands.

“Okay, no, calm down. I was gonna say paint bombing Ezra.”

A savage grin appeared on Sabine’s face.

“After I talk to him,” he amended quickly. Sabine sketched a salute, and turned to walked away, but paused.

“Kanan?” she asked, sounding younger than when he even met her. 

“Yeah, Sabine?”

She looked at her boots.

“You know you’re - you’re kinda like my dad, right?”

Kanan smiled.

“Yeah, Bean, I know.”

She glanced up at him, then grinned, bright and beautiful, and Kanan never felt prouder. 

“Don’t die again. I will kill you,” she threatened, and suppressed a smile. She tossed a thumb over her shoulder. “Guess I’ll go.”

“Oh, by the way, Sabine,” Kanan called after her. She looked back at him, eyebrows raised. “I miss your unnaturally colored hair.”

A slow smile spread itself across her face.

“Maybe I’ll fix that.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just... really like sabine and kanan's relationship. there will be more! i swear it


End file.
